


Interlude IV

by Cerdic519



Series: Further Adventures Of Mr. Sherlock Holmes [56]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Caring Sherlock Holmes, F/M, Fake Character Death, M/M, Minor Character Death, Slow Burn, Untold Cases of Sherlock Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 15:02:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15439680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: Sherrinford Holmes loses one brother - and fervently wishes that he had lost a second!





	Interlude IV

**Author's Note:**

  * For [majesticduxk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesticduxk/gifts).



_Narration by Sir Sherrinford Holmes, Baronet_

The years that followed the dramatic events at the Reichenbach Falls were difficult ones for just about everyone. I found it hard to believe that someone with the life-force of my brother Sherlock was no more, even when Doctor Watson returned from Europe and was kind enough to come round and see me in person. It just seemed so utterly impossible – and impossible it was!

Two days after the doctor's visit, we had a second caller. It was none other than Miss Richards, the owner of the Middleton's information agency and I knew one of the most powerful ladies in London. I had no idea what she might want with myself or Kean, but what she had to say had even him reaching for the whisky. Sherlock was alive having faked his death and my brother Mycroft had known all along!

I told Kean that he was _not_ allowed to go round and remove one Holmes brother 'to make up the numbers'. Although when Miss Richards graciously offered the services of one of her own 'direct removal agents' (and free of charge!) I was sorely tempted!

Reluctant though I was to admit it, I could see why Sherlock had not told Watson about his plans. The doctor was a good man, but he was terrible at dissembling outside of the normal half-truths and unspoken facts that every doctor has to come up with. He had to be allowed to write his friend's demise in a way that showed he himself believed it true, for as Miss Richards reminded us both, even the vile Professor Moriarty had colleagues out there who, once they knew Sherlock was alive, would strive to kill him. 

And write the doctor most certainly did. Readers of the _”Strand”_ magazine got to enjoy six of his and Sherlock's cases that year of 'Ninety-One; _A Scandal In Bohemia, The Red-Headed League, A Case Of Identity, The Boscombe Valley Mystery, The Five Orange Pips_ and _The Man With The Twisted Lip._ There might well have been even more, but sadly the poor doctor received another blow when, after an illness that lasted for much of the autumn, his wife Mary died three days into the new year.

By this time I had had the inevitable argument with Mycroft, who had scoffed at the idea of actually informing me of Sherlock's plans. As I have mentioned elsewhere Kean and I would not use the information gathered in our establishments for anything other than the prevention of criminality but I may have bent that rule ever so slightly when I gave him a list of the seven government ministers (two in the Cabinet) and twenty-three civil servants who used our services. Kean made it quite clear that my brother's attitude had better show some improvement. Or else!

Mycroft's attitude showed _some_ improvement.

I was, I confess, a little surprised that Watson chose to continue living in the family home, although I suppose that as it was also his surgery it would have been inconvenient to move. He certainly poured his efforts into his writings, and seven more stories graced the pages of the _”Strand”_ magazine in 'Ninety-Two; _The Blue Carbuncle, The Speckled Band, The Engineer's Thumb, The Noble Bachelor, The Beryl Coronet, The Copper Beeches _and one of my personal favourites _“Silver Blaze”_. Watson also visited the two of us a little more often, and once said that he could never pass 221B Baker Street without recalling the happy times he and Sherlock had enjoyed there. I felt very guilty but managed to say nothing.__

__Sherlock was at this time travelling abroad as an explorer called 'Sigerson' (I thought that a little risky as an observant person might have remembered that he and I were both Siger Holmes' sons). He then returned briefly to England and called in on us both which was good of him. His reason, he said, was that our great-uncle up in Yorkshire was worried about his grandson's involvement in a criminal matter and he wished to help out. I was concerned – I was sure he must have checked up on Watson too – but said nothing._ _

__One day I will work out how Kean can do that judgemental silence thing from the next room. And one day pigs will fly!_ _

____

۩۩۩۩V♔RI۩۩۩۩


End file.
